Tag omgggggggg

theproblemwithstardust Leave a comment

mad-madam-m:

mad-madam-m:

bluemeridian:

jerakeenc:

#so here’s the thing#derek’s parents invited five fairies to their only son’s christening#the fairies offered the newborn their gifts#of beauty#grace#sarcasm#and awesome teeth#but before the final fairy could offer her gift#(it was going to be the fluffiest tail in all the lands btw)#the doors opened with a loud bang#and another /uninvited/ wicked fairy walked in#she cursed the baby to have a life full of tragedies#and die of a broken heart#(she’s a bitch that one)#(no wonder they didn’t invite her)#but thankfully#the last fairy was yet to give her gift#and she used it to alter the curse#so that the boy would never lose his will to live#even in the face of countless tragedies#and the curse will be lifted she said#when derek hale finds his true love#the one who’ll choose to stand by his side#face his life’s tragedies with him#so this is why derek’s life sucks so implausibly hard#and why he keeps dusting himself off#and trying again every time#teen wolf#prompts#fairytale au

It all makes so much more sense now. *nods*

Somebody write this because I don’t need any more freaking fic ideas.

SO GUESS WHAT I DID.

theproblemwithstardust Leave a comment

eeyore9990:

So I had this thought this morning and I don’t THINK I’ve read this premise (but there are four and a half billionty Sterek fics in AO3 so probably it has been written lol)…

Sheriff gets shot on duty.

(Are you still here? Good. Like I’d ever kill John, please, not happening. Sheriff Hotass lives forever!)

But it’s bad enough that he’s in hospital for a good while and then requires physical therapy.

His physical therapist? Derek.

So Stiles, who is An Adult, basically lives at the hospital for the time that Sheriff is an in-patient, and due to Lack Of Sleep and Stress and Worry/Severe Anxiety, he sees Derek the first time and proposes marriage and/or life partnership.

Derek sees this guy with the dark circles and pale skin and shaky hands and KNOWS how Stiles is feeling (he knows Sheriff’s wife died many years ago) but he also thinks, due to the backpack spilling papers and books all over the floor, that Stiles is in high school (and also Stiles has resting baby face, so).

So Derek laughs it off, says he’ll take a ring pop as an engagement ring, but not just ANY ring pop, it has to be… Watermelon flavored or whatever.

Stiles’ brain goes offline for a minute or an hour, and resorts to random factoids about the candy industry while watching Derek put the Sheriff through a round of PT that doesn’t look like much more than gentle manipulation but has Sheriff gritting his teeth and sweating bullets (haha, Stiles’ brain, too soon!) and swearing under his breath.

And then Derek keeps coming back at the same time every day, and every day Stiles has a different flavor ring pop, and it’s cute and a “joke” but it’s never watermelon flavored, and also Derek continues to think Stiles is A Kid.

Until…

The day comes for Sheriff to be released and Stiles and Sheriff are arguing about something when Derek comes in for Sheriff’s final in-hospital PT session.

Sheriff: Would you tell my kid he needs to stop using up all his vacation time on me? Even my DOCTOR (significant glare at Stiles) agrees I’m capable of surviving on my own now.

Derek: Vacation time?

Stiles: It’s MY vacation time, and Derek understands that our honeymoon will have to wait until I’ve built up more. He’s understanding like that.

(Stiles hands Derek another Ring Pop that Derek puts in his pocket to give to the kid with the severely shattered femur in Room 14 without even looking at it because the package was purple, so probably grape flavored. It’s like Stiles isn’t even trying, but Derek feels a bit bad that this kid is spending all his allowance on candy for Derek that he ends up giving away to other kids…)

Sheriff: I know you FBI agents mostly just stand around with your thumbs up your asses, but even THAT requires you being present to do so.

Stiles: *significant eye roll* Hey, at least we don’t volunteer to be the target for two-bit gas station robbers to shoot at.

Derek: FBI?

Stiles and Sheriff: Huh?

Derek: Aren’t you a student? *a bit panicky, because suddenly Stiles is An Adult and Derek’s brain is having problems redefining him and his place in the world*

Stiles: *eye roll* Really? Did Melissa pay you to say that shit? I go undercover at a high school ONE TIME…

Derek: How old are you?

Stiles: 27.

Derek: Oh. I gave all the ring pops to kids in pediatrics.

Sheriff: *starts laughing, which fucking hurts, oww*

Stiles: I am Offended. You must take me out to dinner to make up for it.

Derek: *actually taking a moment to look at Stiles, who is cute and has been there for his dad every minute of the day for weeks* I only have enough time for coffee for a FBI agent, sorry. *is actually flirting now, which is vastly different from humoring an underage boy*

Stiles: Oh, is it gang up on the FBI agent day?

Derek: Well, all those investigating skills and you still haven’t found me a watermelon ring pop.

Sheriff: *fist bumps Derek*

Stiles: *narrows eyes* Fine. But if I bring you a watermelon one, you’re legally obligated to go to dinner with me.

~later that day/week~

Derek is waiting in the coffee shop on his day off when Stiles enters. He’s well-rested, cleaned up, and wearing a suit jacket because he’s going back to FBI office after this.

He looks HAWT.

Derek is the one nearly tripping over his tongue now, which is made worse when Stiles pulls a watermelon ring pop out of his pocket and drops to one knee.

Derek’s not sure whether his immediate “Yes” is to dinner… or the rest of his life.

(Spoiler: It starts with dinner but ends up being The Rest of His Life barely a year later.)

(Sheriff makes a full recovery but retires three years later when Stiles and Derek adopt their first child.)

(Yes, Derek is a werewolf. He leeches little bits of pain from patients when it won’t interfere with recovery.)

609.

theproblemwithstardust Leave a comment

winterhawkkisses:

Clint floats up from dreaming to the gentle tugging of fingers through his hair and he smiles before he’s even conscious of it, wakes up with it already on his face. He’s draped over Bucky, one of his legs hanging off the couch and the other nestled warmly between Bucky’s thighs, his face resting against the warmth of Bucky’s chest and stubble burn on his forehead. 

“Hey, I love you,” he slurs, inelegant because he refuses to moves his head enough to articulate, makes a pathetic protesting noise when Bucky’s fingers still in his hair.

“You still dreaming, sweetheart?” he asks, all soft and low, and Clint turns his head just enough to press a kiss against the soft skin of Bucky’s throat. 

“No,” he says, decisive, sure, and he levers himself up just enough to watch the slow dawn of a smile on Bucky’s tired face. 

“Maybe I am, then,” he says. 

26.

theproblemwithstardust Leave a comment

winterhawkkisses:

Bucky pretends to eat Tiny Princess Thor’s tiny princess fingers to the sound of her shrieking laughter, which is, y’know, totally fine. Clint didn’t actually need his heart, anyway, so it’s not a problem that it’s flopped out of his chest to land with a sad splat at Bucky’s feet. Clint grins for the seven hundredth Super Selfie – $5 a pop, all proceeds to the local children’s hospital – and then heads over to the grill. Apparently there’s a space inside him to fill.

It turns out hotdogs do not, actually, cure all ills, no matter the amount of relish. So Clint finds a spot that’s quickest to lose the light that’s slowly fading out of the sky, tilts his head back against the trunk of a bunting-wrapped tree, and sighs the sigh of the world-weary and love-lorn. It’s a tune that comes easy to his lips.

(Bungee cord is maybe what he needs, ‘cos he always gives his heart away too quickly, and it’s never particularly timely about coming back.)

“Hey,” a low voice says, and Clint hitches a grin into place with a block and tackle.

“Tired of the adoration, Barnes?”

Bucky shrugs, his shoulders loosed from the tension they normally carry.

“Not sure it’s deserved,” he says, taking his share of the tree. Clint elbows him in the side.

“Sure it is,” he says, matter-of-fact enough to build a university on. “You’re a gold-standard genuine hero, Buck, nobody doubts that but you.”

Bucky shifts his weight, turns to the side, rests his shoulder against the tree. Clint figures it’s safer to keep staring up at the stars.

“You’re a goddamn prince, Barton,” he says, “and you don’t get told that nearly enough.”

Clint risks a glance right, regrets it immediately. Mentally kisses his heart goodbye, ‘cos he’s not sure this time he’s getting it back.

theproblemwithstardust Leave a comment

catsi:

catsi:

in grade 12 we were reading romeo and juliet and we were at the romantic-ass balcony scene and this hot girl in the class volunteered to read juliet’s parts and i put up my hand to volunteer for another part and the teacher goes ‘oh do you want to be the nurse, amanda?’ and i was like ‘no i wanna be romeo’ and the hot girl swiveled around in her seat to give me a Look™

she and i later ended up making out at a bunch of parties in university lmfao

in retrospect this moment was absolutely pivotal to my butch awakening but it was also just a lesbian power move